But I’m not sure it matters because I probably scared him away, and if I didn’t, I don’t know what to think.
You see, I got to the Comet at the arranged time, parked myself at the bar, and waited. And waited. And waited. An icy hand of fear grabbed my spine; was I being stood up? I really only went for this date because it was a sure thing, I don’t have the heart for flat-out rejection at the moment, and for fuck’s sake, he sent me nudes. Where is he? Not being the type to send the annoying “wheeere aaare you?!?” text messages, I just began drinking my fear. On an pretty empty stomach.
When he finally showed (there were accidents on the highway and then he couldn’t find parking and…), I was on my way and, because alcohol impairs one’s judgment, just kept going. By the time we were getting ready to leave for the Egyptian, I had already broken the seal (in a bathroom with no toilet paper–have you ever wiped yourself with a bus transfer? I have.) and was tanked. The free shots the bartender was giving me, which seemed awesome at the time, were definitely working their way into my system, and about halfway through Jaws, I excused myself to go do my best imitation of a fountain in the ladies’ room. First, I threw up in the sink, because I couldn’t make it to the toilet. Then, I threw up in the toilet. When I thought things couldn’t get any worse, diarrhea struck and THEN while I was in the middle of painfully cleaning my colon, I had to throw up again and had no choice but to puke in the sanitary napkin receptacle on the side of the stall. Afterward, coherent enough to feel shame but still impaired enough to think I could recover from this, I rushed out into the lobby to buy something, anything with mint, to settle my stomach and maybe not smell like I was returning from the Miss Bulimia 2010 Pageant, which explains the box of Junior Mints in my coat pocket with precisely two removed. When I got back into the theater (having seen Jaws about one hundred thousand times), I realized just how long I had been gone and knew that he knew what I had been up to–there’s no way he couldn’t have. (Later, after I turned my phone back on, I received his concerned text message, and shame washed over me anew.)
On the way back to his car, he held my hand and said he had sort of an embarrassing question to ask me, you see, he had me in his phone as ‘lil santa’ and he didn’t know, well, and I cut him off with “oh my god, it’s ok, I don’t know your name either.” Introductions were made, and even knowing what I am certain he knew, he kissed me goodnight.
This morning, when I woke up on leighhyphenanne‘s couch, I was completely overcome by shame and embarrassment, because I NEVER forget these moments. I am envious of people who black out. At least when they wake up in the morning, it’s “Oh god, what did I do?” instead of “Oh god, I can’t believe I did that.”
The shame is at least passing quickly, what happened happened, and the result of it will be the result. I’m not going to call him, you know, because after you leave the house in a cute outfit but somehow end up wrapped in a cloak of shame, maybe you should leave it to the other person whether they want to put up with your BS, and I hope he does call, but I won’t be surprised if he doesn’t.
In my phone you are “Kinky Kelly and the Sexy Stud”
As a man with absolutely no shame, I might be a bad person to be giving advice at this point but Imma do it anyway.
Don’t worry about it. These things happen. Grace is doing something unbelievably stupid and then walking it off and looking awesome. I know that you are awesome. Show me your walk.
:struts off into the sunset:
Well, at least you know Lanny and her cat won’t judge you.
Definitely not. Never in a million years.
Mellzah – remember the date-disaster in may(?) wherein I killed three pitchers of beer, had a RASH But then threw up in his bathroom 8 times. And still got a kiss goodbye.
Yeah.
OH baby do I ever remember that. But I can’t remember, did he call you after that?
Call: no. Text: yes. We had one more (sober) date. Turns out, when he wasn’t drunk he was boring…
At least he didn’t try to force you to eat beef stew.
Oy sick.
That guy…phish enthusiast… was SO boring. And crude. He emailed me a youtube video of dan savage giving a presentation on how to stay in a relationship. Leading with the importance of blowjobs.
Dudes into jam bands usually are boring as hell. How else could they listen to variations on a theme for hours straight?
It’s called “noodling”
O rly? Because I thought it was called ‘sucking’.
I’ll have you know that cat was totally judgmental.
She does that… there was one time involving mushrooms. I totally couldn’t make eye contact.
I know. 🙁
Nice!
Random 2 cents because I used to be a veteran at these moments. If the guy was turned off at the idea of being on a date who’d gotten a few hours head start at the bar and parked a few buicks in the theater bathroom, he wouldn’t have asked your name and gone through the kiss routine. Instead, there would have been an awkward moment, he may have said he’d talk to you again soon and found an excuse to leave as quickly as socially acceptable.
That said, if there was tongue involved in said kiss, any lingering upchuck flavor could have been a turnoff but with the addition of naked pictures, my guess is that he’s not so uptight to care unless this was a consistent theme.
Going one step further, I’m wondering why the guy didn’t take the time to catch up at the bar? He -was- late. This calls for shots imo.. just saying.
Re: Nice!
This. Man it’s been a long time for me to have experenced those trepidating moments but I agree .. He was late.. Of course you probably downed a few in that situation. The guy understands this and got your name regardless. Shrug it off 😉
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hahaha maybe he just wants a name to attach to the story when he tells all his friends about the Amazing Vomit Girl.
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Yes, very wise(also cleverly written, M. Ivy).
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This makes me feel much better, thank you. 🙂
epic
If you had worn the froot loops, you wouldn’t have had an empty stomach. You would, however, have been naked when he arrived, but then you may have missed Jaws for other reasons entirely.
And now I know to take your suggestions more seriously.
The necklace of bottlecaps would have been the perfect accessory to this evening. Just sayin’.
But on another subject, he did kiss you goodnight. I bet he calls.
I can’t say that *I* would have been as good of a person if I knew vomiting had just happened. I guess we’ll see!
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Thank god for cluelessness.
Are you coming to happyfuntrampolinetimes on Saturday?
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i’m still undecided but leaning towards no. we’re helping Cassie (one of our tenants) move out that day and we’ve got Tom coming in from england the night before. i’m also nursing a hurt knee, which makes me think tramping is a bad plan… but i WANT to go, so boy and i are still considering. sorry to be flakey 😛
Re: Nice!
It’s totally cool, if it turns out well I’m sure we’ll go again at some point so there’s no sense in pushing an injury and potentially seriously hurting yourself. 🙂
Representing with the Y chromosome
That’s our trooper.
Well, if he texted with concern, yeah, he knew you were hurling. And yet! He still wanted to know your name. And kissed you, though he knew you’d been a-hurling.
And he’s a mensch, because you didn’t wake up saying “Oh god, I can’t believe I did that” in bed with him. Right?
I’m with Kemidra on this one. Reckon he’ll call.
***
The blackout thing isn’t so enviable. Trying to figure out what you did is a lot like trying to figure out My Bloody Valentine lyrics. Once you finally do, you realize you liked the song better before you knew how dumb the words are.
Re: Representing with the Y chromosome
And he’s a mensch, because you didn’t wake up saying “Oh god, I can’t believe I did that” in bed with him. Right?
Right. 🙂
Everyone else has said it better than me, but I think it’ll be fine. In fact, I had a very very similar thing happen to me years ago which turned into a lovely little relationship for awhile. 🙂
At this point, I was getting rid of things I ate in past lives.
hahaha! 😀
What a nice guy!
Yeah, I’m late to this, but wanted to throw in my support. And update us!
Pshaw, LJ is the first to know about EVERYTHING.
OMG I forgot how good this blog was.
Also, Frank?! What is this guy, a WW2 vet?
Hahahahaha not WW2, no, but he definitely has some years on me. At least ten, if not fifteen.
Wait, Frank is his real name? Who names their kid Frank?
Well, he’s Francis but goes by Frank. Wouldn’t you? Frankly?
So I have to know. Was there tongue?
Also, don’t worry about it. Fuck him if he can’t take a joke.
Nooooo tongue. I wouldn’t have let it happen, as I am unconvinced that Junior Mints are strong enough to overpower vomit.
Aaaaaw… what’s a little vomit between friends?
If this guy has half a brain, he will connect the dots and cut you some slack.
Did I tell you about the time I went out to see “Macbeth” in the park with a male co-worker I was just getting to know? (“Out damn spot!”) If he doesn’t call, at least it will make you feel better. 🙂
I think maybe you have, but I am definitely interested in hearing it again.
Aisling thinks I should give him this week, and text him sometime this weekend to see if maybe he’ll give me a chance next weekend to redeem myself.
I’m with Aisling. Text him this weekend and see.